


Let the world pass by (for forever)

by starlitsequins



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Pining, Suicidal Thoughts, Supernatural Elements, Temporary Character Death, maybe some zolana, wouldn't be a deh fic without
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-11-28 18:31:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11423694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlitsequins/pseuds/starlitsequins
Summary: As a ghost, Connor thought his life would be all aboutwatching. Watching his family live with him gone. Watching the birds as they flew by him. Watching as the world moved around him.But Evan Hansen could see him.





	1. Chapter 1

It was funny, Evan thought, how that even with a broken arm, people didn’t notice him. 

The sharpie was a heavy weight in his pocket, a reminder that he was supposed to ask people to sign his cast. The very thought made him feel sick. The hallways were crowded as he made his way through the school to get to his locker, throwing small smiles at the few who bothered to wave at him.

The first person he talked to was Alana, who chattered his ear off about her _amazing_ , _productive_ summer. Evan couldn’t get a word in edgewise before she was gone, slipping away through the hallways to presumably talk to more of her ‘acquaintances’. She didn’t sign his cast. He wasn’t surprised at that. 

Jared, who approached him after that, didn’t either. Evan didn’t really know why he thought he would. They were ‘family friends’, after all, which Jared reminded him a _bit_ too often about.

“Well, hey, Connor!” Jared grinned and Evan looked up to see Connor Murphy walk down the hallway. At the sound of his name, Connor stopped and slowly turned around to face them. Evan had hardly seen him at all in his years at high school, but knew him well enough to know he had grown his hair out over the summer. There were bags under his eyes and it seemed that Evan wasn’t the only one who didn’t sleep much.

“Loving the new hair length,” Jared continued. “Very school shooter chic.”

There was a silence.

“I was just kidding,” Jared said. When there was no response, he added, “It was a joke?”

“Yeah, no, it was funny, I’m laughing, can’t you tell?” Connor replied, looking icily at Jared. There was another silence and Evan could practically see Connor’s hackles rise. “Am I not laughing hard enough for you?”

Jared rolled his eyes. “You’re such a freak,” he said, walking off.

Connor turned to Evan, who backed away. “What the fuck are you laughing at?”

“What?”

“Stop fucking laughing at me!” Connor’s voice rose. “You think I’m the freak?” He rounded on Evan. 

“No—I wasn’t—I don’t think you’re—” Evan stammered.

“I’m not the freak.” Connor neared Evan, eyes bloodshot and dead. “You’re the fucking freak!” he spat, pushing Evan down and stalking away.

Evan stayed on the ground for a bit longer than he needed. He sighed, walking to his locker and shrugging off his backpack. Today was going to be a long day.

* * *

The day sucked.

That wasn’t much of a surprise, combined with his embarrassing conversation with Zoe (his crush as painful as ever) or the forced ‘get to know you’ activities in class (they were _seniors_ ) or the lunch he spent alone. And now he was sitting in the computer lab by himself, waiting for his paper to print.

“So.” Evan jumped and turned to see Connor standing next to him. 

“Um.” Connor sounded awkward. “What happened to your arm?” It was a pitiful attempt at conversation.

“Oh, I, um, I fell out of a tree actually,” Evan replied, looking resolutely down at his cast.

“You feel out of a tree,” Connor repeated. “Well, that is just the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard, oh my god.”

“I know,” Evan muttered.

“Um, no one’s signed your cast,” Connor noted, pointing towards the cast. 

“No, I know.” Evan cringed at himself, well aware of how pathetic he was sounding. 

Either he was imagining it, or there was a faint smile on Connor’s face. “Well, I’ll sign it,” Connor offered.

“You don’t have to,” Evan replied weakly.

“Do you have a sharpie?” Connor asked, ignoring his protests. Evan dug through his pocket and withdrew the marker, before handing it to Connor. Connor grabbed his arm roughly before scrawling out _CONNOR_ in giant letters over his entire cast.

“Oh. Great. Thanks,” Evan said, examining the cast. There was hardly any room for anyone else to sign it. Not that anyone would, anyway.

Connor stepped back. “Now we can pretend we both have friends.” He gave Evan an empty smile. 

Evan nodded, unsure what else to say, and stepped past Connor to maybe sprint out of the room as fast as possible. 

“Is this yours?” Connor caught him before he could leave. He was holding the paper Evan had printed “I found it on the printer. ‘Dear Evan Hansen’? That’s your name, right?”

“Oh, right.” Evan scrambled for an excuse. “It’s just for an assignment—a paper I had to write—it’s stupid—”

Connor held on to the paper, reading it. “Is this about my sister?” 

“No, no, no—” Evan said quickly, waving his hands. “It’s not—” 

“You wrote this so I could find this.” Connor looked up at Evan and Evan let his hands drop to his sides.

“What?” 

“You saw that I was the only other person in the computer lab, so you wrote this and you printed it out so I would find it.”

Evan was now thoroughly confused. “Why—why would I do that—”

“So I could read some creepy shit you wrote about my sister and freak out, right?” And just like that, as if a switch had flipped on, Connor was now glaring at Evan, hands trembling as he gripped the letter. “And then you could tell _everybody_ that _I’m_ crazy!”

“What?” Evan said helplessly. “I don’t—”

“Fuck you!” Connor ripped the paper in two and threw it on the ground before running out.

Evan retrieved the shreds from the ground, before walking back to reprint the letter. _Dear Evan Hansen_ , he thought wryly, _today sucked and here’s why._

* * *

Connor didn’t appear at school the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. Zoe was missing as well. Maybe some sickness was going around. Evan pushed his food around on his plate, stomach turning at the thought of eating. He could only think of Connor’s words, ringing in his head.

Heidi’s phone dinged and she went to retrieve it. “It’s an email from the school,” she told Evan. As she read, her face grew pale, mouth dropping open in shock.

“Mom?” Evan asked, worried.

“One of the boys in your class.” Heidi set down the phone, shaken. “Connor Murphy. He—he took his own life.”

_He took his own life._

Evan stood up, pushing back his chair. “I—I have to go,” he choked out, grabbing his backpack and heading out the door.

The giant letters on his cast seemed more of a brand than a signature.

* * *

Connor woke up in a park alone alone. He rubbed his eyes, a sharp headache ringing in his ears. At first he sat there alone, trying to gain his bearings, until he remembered what he had done.

Then he was on his knees, fingers scrabbling for his knife or his bag and finding nothing. HIs hands shook. _I tried to kill myself, I had it all planned out, what happened, what happened, why am I still alive_?

Connor took a deep breath, let it out, and slowly stood up. Everything he had took with him was gone. Maybe he had blacked out before he could go through with it.

(But he could remember the sharp knife, the dull pain, the hot blood...)

“Okay,” he muttered to himself. “I’ll figure this out...tomorrow.” Tomorrow was another day and his future self could deal with however badly he fucked up.

It was dark as he headed home, the moon high in the sky. A rush of wind ripped through him like a cold blade and he shuddered at the feeling. Maybe he was dreaming.

Connor stumbled up the steps of his house and walked inside, so lost in his thoughts he didn’t realize he passed right through the door. It was quiet as he walked upstairs. The stairs didn’t creak like they used to when he stepped on them.

His room was exactly like he had left it, Connor noted dimly in the back of his mind, with clothes thrown haphazardly about and a stack of books in the corner. The clock in the corner shown _12:00_ , so he curled up on his bed with nothing better to do. He didn’t feel very tired. He didn’t really feel much of anything.

Sleep came easier than it ever had that night.

* * *

The next morning Connor woke to a ray of sunlight hitting his face. He sat up, moving his hair back from his face. He didn’t feel groggy like he usually did in the morning—in fact, he didn’t feel any different than he had the night before.

He shook his head and stood up, making his way downstairs.

“You didn’t even notice I was gone all night,” he muttered to his family. It looked like a more sullen breakfast than usual. Cynthia’s eyes were red and Zoe was pushing food around her plate. Larry had his face hidden in a newspaper.

Connor rolled his eyes at the lack of response and moved to grab the chair. His hand went through it.

“What the fuck?” He tried again with no luck. He raked a hand through his hair, staring at his family to see if they had noticed. They hadn’t.

“Mom?” He tried to set his hand on the table but his hand once again slipped through it. Was his hand-eye coordination _that_ bad? “Are you seeing this?”

Cynthia didn’t respond. She didn’t even look at him. He waved a hand over her face. Nothing.

_This has to be a dream._

Zoe set down her fork and it clattered loudly in the quiet room. “I’m not hungry,” she announced.

“Zoe, you need to eat,” Cynthia said gently. “I know it’s hard to cope with losing Connor but…We need your help in planning his—his funeral.”

“My funeral?” Connor repeated. “I’m not _dead_.”

Zoe’s expression turned stormy. “I don’t want anything to do with that,” she said coldly, standing up and walking away.

Cynthia sighed, watching helplessly as Larry stood up as well to get ready for work. She wiped away a tear and Connor watched as she flipped through the rare pictures on her phone of Connor.

“I’m not dead, I’m not dead, I’m not dead.” Connor’s breathing quickened, and he grabbed onto his wrists (the one thing he _could_ grab) to try and ground himself. But on his wrists he felt something rough and he held them up to his eyes. There, staring back at him, were two scars where he had slit the skin in an effort to bleed out.

And if he _did_ bleed out…

And if he _was_ dead…

Then he was a ghost and he was still stuck in this godforsaken world. Except this time, it was forever and there was no way to kill himself and escape.

He let out a guttural scream sinking to the floor and cradling his head in his hands, and the only difference it made was a gust of cold wind.

* * *

Nothing seemed to change when Connor died.

LIfe went on. They still had classes. People still laughed. And Evan couldn’t stop thinking of Connor.

It was raining as he walked home from the school. The sky was overcast and dark and drops pelted down on him, soaking through his clothes.

Up ahead of him, he saw figure hunched over outside his window, desolately walking alone. Evan stopped and squinted at the figure. When he recognized the hoodie and long hair, his heart stopped. 

“Connor?” he called hesitantly, walking towards the figure. 

The figure stopped and glanced around, before shaking his head and continuing to walk.

“Connor, is that you?” Evan caught a glimpse of his face and was now certain it was the ‘dead’ teenager. “You’re alive?”

Connor didn't respond, walking further away.

“Wait!” Evan called out desperately, running to grab him by his wrist. His hands closed around thin air that felt like cold mist and he backed up. “Connor?” 

Connor turned around, his eyes widening as they made contact with Evan’s. Words fell out of his mouth, rushed and uncertain. “You...you can see me?” 

“You—you’re—” Evan stared at Connor. He looked faded and washed out. His skin was translucent, almost transparent at places. “You’re a ghost? But those aren’t real!”

”Well, they are,” Connor said, almost bitterly. “Because I’m here, aren’t I?”

_Dear Evan Hansen, you’re going crazy and here’s why..._


	2. Chapter 2

The rain didn’t seem to bother Connor at all. Evan, on the other hand, shuddered as a drop ran down his back. “Can—can we go to my house?” he asked nervously. “And talk?”

Connor frowned and opened his mouth and Evan braced himself for a refusal or a backlash, but instead he looked around at the rain, as if just realizing it was there, and gave a quick, sharp nod. “Sure.”

They walked in silence, or at least Evan thought Connor was walking, but when he glanced at him, he realized he was a few inches in the air. “You’re, um, floating?”

Connor looked down at his feet. “I will never get used to that,” he muttered, which seemed to be the best answer Evan would receive.

“This—this has to be some manifestation of-of my guilt,” Evan said, staring at Connor. “I must be going crazy.”

“You’re not going crazy,” Connor said, irritated. “I’m actually a ghost.”

“I am.” Evan wrenched his gaze away from the ghost. “This isn’t real, this can’t be real, I’m just seeing things, I _must_ be…”

“I’m real!” Connor snapped and at his anger a clap of thunder sounded and rain seemed to pour down even harder. 

“Did you do that?” Evan gasped, staring up at the sky.

“I don’t know,” Connor whispered. “ _I don’t fucking know.”_

They neared Evan’s house and Connor watched impatiently as Evan fumbled with the key to unlock the door. When he finally did, he walked inside, Connor following.

He had an unread text from his mother and he sighed, shutting off his phone. 

“What’s that?” Connor asked him from over his shoulder and Evan nearly dropped his phone in surprise.

“Just my mom,” he replied. “She’s working late.” There was a silence, before Evan said, “We could, um, go upstairs? And you can tell me what’s going on?” 

“Lead the way,” Connor said indifferently and that was how Evan found himself sitting on his bed with a ghost sitting cross-legged in midair.

“So. You’re a ghost,” Evan said, hands fidgeting with the ends of his shirt.

“I’m pretty sure we’ve already established that,” Connor said, raising his eyebrows. He drummed his fingers on his arms and Evan tried not to stare at the scars on his wrist.

“Can anyone else see you?”

Connor shook his head. “It’s only you,” he replied. “Even my own family can’t see me.”

“Was...was I the last person you saw?” Evan ventured. “Before you...you know.”

Connor frowned, thinking. “I think you were the last person I actually _spoke_ to.” He paused. “That letter you were writing…” His mouth twisted into a frown and his eyes darkened and Evan suddenly remembered exactly _what_ their last conversation was.

“It was a therapy letter!” Evan blurted out. He took a shaky breath, twisting the ends of his shirts nervously. “I—I have social anxiety and my therapist said to write letters to help ‘gain my confidence’. I didn’t mean for you to read it.”

“Oh.” Connor relaxed a little bit, but his eyes were still downcast. “But you mentioned my sister.”

“It was nothing,” Evan said quickly. “I was just—it’s dumb—just a little crush—” 

“You have a crush on my sister,” Connor said, and Evan had a terrible feeling he was making things worse.

“Maybe?” he asked helplessly.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Connor muttered. “Everyone loves Zoe.” 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Evan tried again and Connor looked away.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. He stood up from his position in the air. “I should go.” 

“Connor!” Evan called out desperately. “Can we—can we talk again? Tomorrow?”

There was a small smile on Connor’s face, unless Evan was imagining it. “Maybe,” he replied, before phasing through Evan’s wall and disappearing.

Evan stared at the empty space in shock before fumbling for his phone and clicking on Jared’s contact.

**Evan:** do you believe in ghosts?

**Jared: __** _ _why r u asking me???__

____

****__

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**Evan: __**__I have no one else to ask_ _

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____

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**Jared: __**__no i dont believe in ghosts_ _

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_____ _

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**Evan: __**__oh_ _

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______ _ _

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**Jared: __**__???_ _

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_______ _ _ _

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**Evan: __**__It’s nothing. I’ll see you tomorrow_ _

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________ _ _ _ _

__

Evan shut off his phone, placing it on his nightstand and took out his homework, fiddling with a pencil as he mulled it over. And if he watched the spot Connor was for a few minutes more, well, that was no one’s business.

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* * *

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The rain had stopped when Connor left Evan’s house. He had nowhere to go, so he roamed around aimlessly. 

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________ _ _ _ _

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He was constantly discovering more and more quirks of being a ghost. He was getting better at floating until it took nothing but a mere thought. He learned that he felt nearly nothing while passing through objects but passing through people gave him a strange turn in his stomach. 

__

________ _ _ _ _

__

And, of course, he learned he was visible to no one but Evan Hansen. He sighed, rubbing the scars on his wrist. He wondered if he’d be walking around with a broken neck if he had decided to hang himself instead.

__

________ _ _ _ _

__

Thinking about his own death, he decided, was for another time.

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________ _ _ _ _

__

He ended up on the roof of his house, a place he would escape to sometimes when he was, well, alive. He closed his eyes and felt the whispers of the wind, comforted by the touch of _something_. 

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________ _ _ _ _

__

When he opened his eyes again, he was met with the sun.

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________ _ _ _ _

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He looked down to see Zoe’s car leave for school. He wasn’t surprised that, despite his death, she was still functioning more than he did alive. After a moment’s thought, he stood up and followed her to school.

__

________ _ _ _ _

__

It wasn’t much of a difference to be dead at school. People didn’t spare him a glance and he winced as student after student walked straight through him. He finally spotted Evan at his locker, fumbling to grab his binders and folders.

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________ _ _ _ _

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“Hansen,” Connor said, walking up to him.

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________ _ _ _ _

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Evan squeaked and dropped his binders. Connor watched as he scrambled to pick them up. “Connor!” Evan glanced around at the other students before lowering his voice. “What are you doing here?”

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________ _ _ _ _

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“You said you wanted to see me again, right?” Connor, shoved his hands into his pockets, already bracing himself for Evan to leave.

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________ _ _ _ _

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Instead, Evan lit up with a smile. “I didn’t think you would actually _come_!” he said, looking so surprised, Connor wondered how many other people had stood him up.

__

________ _ _ _ _

__

Well, Connor felt the inexplicable urge to punch whoever did that. 

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________ _ _ _ _

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“Where are you headed?” Connor asked as the bell rang. 

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________ _ _ _ _

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“English,” Evan replied, staring down at the ground so people wouldn’t notice him talking to himself. “Which isn’t bad.”

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________ _ _ _ _

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Connor nodded. English was the one subject he liked.

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________ _ _ _ _

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“You don’t have to come with me, you know,” Evan said suddenly. “You probably don’t want to, um, be at school and you don’t have to come with me out of—out of pity or anything—”

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________ _ _ _ _

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“I want to be here,” Connor cut Evan off from rambling. When Evan still looked unconvinced, he added, “There’s nothing to do as a ghost. At least I’ll have someone to talk to.”

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________ _ _ _ _

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Evan, apparently satisfied enough with the answer, nodded, walking into class.

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________ _ _ _ _

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Class was better when you were ghost. He floated around the class, half listening to the teacher and half people-watching. Most of the time he was in the unoccupied chair beside Evan, making the occasional remark which Evan acknowledged with a small smile or a nod.

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________ _ _ _ _

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“Why are we going to the library?” Connor asked with a frown as Evan headed there as the lunch bell rang.

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Evan avoided his eyes. “I, um, I don’t have any friends to eat lunch with,” he said quietly.

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________ _ _ _ _

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“Huh,” Connor said. “I should’ve done that. Would’ve saved me a lot of trouble in the cafeteria.”

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________ _ _ _ _

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Connor watched as Evan smiled nervously at the librarian before sitting in the back and taking out his lunch.

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“Hey.” Evan jumped as a girl tapped his shoulder and Connor’s eyes widened to see his sister standing behind him. “Evan?”

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________ _ _ _ _

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“H-hi, Zoe,” Evan said, clearly flustered and already reddening.

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________ _ _ _ _

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Zoe had bags under her eyes but other than that she looked unaffected by Connor’s death—her hair still perfect, outfit still carefully picked out, back still straight. She looked nervous and awkward, hesitating before saying, “You know what happened to my brother, right?”

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________ _ _ _ _

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Evan nodded. 

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“Right.” Zoe shifted her books from one arm to another. “I knew he pushed you a few days ago, but I was wondering if you actually knew him?”

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“Um.” Evan risked a glance at Connor. “Yes?”

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“His name’s on your cast,” Zoe pointed out and Connor glanced down at the cast to see his large handwriting spread out on it. He had forgotten about that. “Connor...he never does—did—things like that.”

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“We were friends?” Evan guessed.

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“Hey,” Connor hissed. “We’re not _friends_ , Hansen.”

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Evan flinched at that but he didn’t tear his gaze from Zoe. “W-why do you ask?”

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“Connor didn’t have many friends,” Zoe said and Connor rolled his eyes. “I was wondering if—” She shook her head, moving to leave. “I’m sorry, this is really weird, I don’t know why I’m even talking to you…”

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“Don’t make her leave,” Connor said to Evan, standing up.

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“Wait!” Evan called out, grabbing her wrist. He immediately let go after he realized what he’d done, shrinking back. “What were you going to ask?”

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“Do you want to come to his funeral on Saturday?” Zoe asked awkwardly. “It’s—it’s a small funeral but I think he would want a friend to be there.”

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“We’re not friends,” Connor muttered. Then, processing Zoe’s words, he said to Evan, “Can you go? I want to see my corpse and have someone to talk to while I do that.”

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Evan frowned at his somewhat morbid words but nodded to Zoe anyway. “Um, I’ll go.”

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Zoe smiled, obviously relieved, and Connor wondered if his mother was behind this, not wanting his funeral to be empty. “Okay,” she said, handing Evan a slip of paper. “If you’re certain about this, text me, and I’ll give you the details.”

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Evan nodded, dumbfounded, and Zoe flitted away, out of the library. “I got Zoe’s number,” Evan said, staring at the paper.

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“Well isn’t this the turning point of your life,” Connor said. He was reminded of Evan’s crush on his sister, which made his stomach churn. “You’re going to my funeral, right?”

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“I need to ask my mom,” he said. “Are you sure about me coming? We’re—we’re not friends and it’s kind of strange to be at your funeral because you’re _dead_ and I still don’t know if you’re even real and not just in my mind and we really don’t know each other—”

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“You don’t need to go,” Connor said, looking away. “I just want someone to talk to. It’ll be fun, to see whatever shit they say about me around my dead body.”

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There was a silence as Evan stared down at his lunch. “I really hope I’m not going crazy,” he said finally. “Because you’re a very real hallucination.”

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“Well,” Connor murmured, staring at his hand. He could just barely see the hardwood table through it. “I feel real.”

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i fixed the summary to something a bit better and i just want to be completely honest, i only have the beginning and end thought out and nothing in between, so this is going to be a ride.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up at my [tumblr](http://starlitdreamscapes.tumblr.com) for any questions and thanks for reading! Update schedule is still unclear


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